Black Box V.O

We had this neighborhood dog.She'd just come up from down the road, From the wrong side of the tracks, they'd say.No tags, no name, but she answered to, Hey You. Some people thought she was part-wolf, but I'd always say Heyyou was too kind to have wolf in herbecause she had these markings, like someone was trying to keep her downand I'd always say, if she were part-wolf, she'd have killed that mother-fuckerI would have.

And they'd always say, What if the pointWas to bear it, a little? Get through it, quietly? Like the First Time, or Last Goodbye? I'd think about that often Drudging along a grey roadwith nothing but an overcoat to cling to, and the sound of blood pumping in my ears, and I'd feel shame because I'd wish her dead.

Remember simpler times? Remember the sound of silence bearing the weight of secret thoughts? Were they pure? Were they virtuous? Can you remember? What if we hadn't a name, or known origin? If we'd just shown up like HeyyouBruised. Bloodied. PantingWhat would revolution look like, then?

As children, we'd kneel down and say,Old Girl, you need to fight! Run away! Give it up!

But she'd just smile,nudge us a bit with her soft, wet, noseand head back down the roadto God Knows Where.